


Ain't My Fault

by afirethatcannotdie



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe, Avocados, Craigslist, Explicit Sexual Content, M/M, Misunderstandings, Recreational Drug Use, Strangers to Lovers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-27
Updated: 2017-04-27
Packaged: 2018-10-24 11:10:44
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,960
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10740519
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/afirethatcannotdie/pseuds/afirethatcannotdie
Summary: “Liam, M4M is for sex! You posted in asex forumabout your missing jacket.”“It is not for sex!”“Itis.Trust me.”“Well, if it helps me find my jacket then I don’t really see why it matters. Besides, someone already texted me about it. This Styles guy’s coming over in a bit to get it.”“You invited the avocado man to come get his jacket at our flat after posting on a sex forum. Do you see where this is going?”“I really don’t.”“Someone is going to have to have sex with the avocado man!” Louis screeches, and Liam covers his ears.AU. Liam posts an ad on the wrong section of Craigslist, Louis is pretty sure they’re gonna get murdered as a result, and Harry’s missing an avocado.





	Ain't My Fault

**Author's Note:**

> Here we have an example of Ellie writes a fic in one day. Thanks to [Sara](http://www.thekingisawoman.tumblr.com) for betaing/cheerleading as always and to [KK](http://www.waytoomanypeopleintheaddisonlee.tumblr.com) for pointing out that even if I think I know my British-isms, I am always missing a few things.
> 
> [inspired by [this prompt](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/156952527621%22)]

Louis wakes to the beeping of the smoke alarm.

He groans and rolls over, throwing his pillow over his head to muffle the sound. He can hear Liam banging around in the kitchen, can so easily picture him swatting at the smoke detector with a tea towel, cursing as he opens all the windows. He’s probably burnt his porridge again.

A few minutes later, when the beeping still hasn’t stopped and Liam is swearing angrily, he decides that it’s probably time to go and rescue Liam from himself.

Standing up is a struggle, his legs and his head protesting in pain, and it takes a minute to remember that he and Liam had raced each other home from the club last night. There’s a reason that Louis goes to the gym on his own and not with Liam. He’s just a bit intense, that’s all.

When he ambles into the kitchen, wearing only his pants and absently scratching a spot on his stomach, he finds Liam standing on a kitchen chair and trying to wrestle the smoke detector from the ceiling.

“Y’alright there, Payno?”

Liam’s sigh of relief is audible. “Oh, thank God. This won’t stop going off and I couldn’t figure out what to do.”

Louis sniffs the air. There’s a faint smell of weed lingering, though it’s a bit overpowered by the burnt smell. Burnt _what_ , he’s not quite sure. “Were you smoking without me?”

“God, no, would you stop pouting? The weed smell is from last night. I was trying to cook something in the oven and I burnt it.”

“Right, I can tell.” He dares to peer into the oven, and there’s a pan filled with a blackish substance inside. It smells _awful._ “Why were you trying to cook anyway? It’s not even noon.”

“I’m supposed to be cooking dinner for Zayn tomorrow night. I thought I’d practice first.”

“Right, well... you might want to just make a restaurant reservation instead.”

Liam crosses his hands over his chest. He’s still standing on the stool, the smoke detector still beeping at random intervals. “Are you saying you think I can’t cook?”

Louis gestures to the black mass inside of the oven. “Evidence speaks for itself, Payno.”

“Fuck you, Tommo.”

“I’d really rather you didn’t, thanks.”

Louis gestures for Liam to step down, and Louis stands on the chair, reaches up and gives the smoke detector a good twist, dislodging it from the ceiling. The noise stops, and silence has never been so glorious.

“There you go.”

“Thanks.”

*

When Louis gets out of the shower, hangover finally subsiding thanks to some cereal and a strong cup of tea, the smell is gone from the flat. That part is not confusing.

What _is_ confusing, however, is that Liam is standing in the middle of the living room, staring at an avocado that he’s got cradled in his palm.

“Um, Li? You doing alright?”

When Liam looks up at him, his expression is dazed. “Where did this come from?”

Louis shrugs. “How the fuck am I supposed to know? An avocado farm, maybe?”

Liam rolls his eyes. “No, but... I found it in my coat pocket.”

“Oh.”

“I think this isn't my jacket, maybe."

“Course it is,” Louis says, walking over to where Liam's jacket is laying on the couch. “I picked it up for you at the club last night. Green jacket with a gold zip, size large.”

“Right, which it is. But my keys aren't in there and there's someone else's name sewn on the inside.”

"What?"

“It says ‘Styles’ inside. You picked up the wrong jacket. Mine has my keys and they aren't in the pocket.”

Understanding dawns on Louis, slower than it should. "And you didn't notice until now because—”

“Because you opened the door last night,” finishes Liam.

“How are you going to get yours back?”

“I dunno. Ring the club, I guess.”

*

The club turns out to be useless. They tell Liam that they don't keep track of these things, that all patrons are responsible for picking up their own belongings, and there's nothing they can do, thanks for visiting, goodbye.

“Fuck,” Liam curses, dropping his head into his hands. “I really need that jacket.”

“And your keys!” The keys seem like the most important thing, all things considering.

“I guess I should just post an ad online.”

“Right, okay, you do that,” Louis says, standing up from the couch and patting Liam's knee as he goes. “Hopefully this Styles person won’t murder you. I'm off to Tesco, you need anything?”

“No,” Liam groans. "I've got this avocado, after all.”

*

When Louis gets home a while later, arms filled with grocery bags, the flat is filled with the sound of music. Liam has a habit of singing in the shower. At least he's a good vocalist.

He puts the groceries away and thinks about what he's going to make for dinner - maybe some pasta and chicken. Or maybe he can see if Perrie wants to go out tonight. She’s always a bit of fun.

He can’t be arsed to walk the twenty feet to his bedroom for his own computer, so he reaches for Liam’s, intending to send Perrie a Facebook message. She has a nasty habit of losing her phone, and now is one of those times when she’s reachable only through the internet.

He doesn’t get to Facebook though, because he’s stopped by the web page open on Liam’s laptop. It’s a Craigslist London post.

> _Missing: one dark green Patagonia jacket with gold zippers, size large. Willing to trade: one dark green Patagonia jacket with gold zippers, size large, with the name STYLES embroidered inside._
> 
> _It appears that there was a jacket mix up last night at Electric and you took my jacket by accident. Mine has my keys in the pocket, yours has an avocado. I really need my keys, I’m going to assume you need the avocado just as much._

Everything about the announcement is fine. Except of course, for the fact that Liam thinks he’s funny. After five years of friendship, Louis knows exactly how not-funny he is. The least funny person he knows, honestly.

There’s just one tiny problem.

“Liam!” Louis yells, bursting into the bathroom, laptop in hand. “Liam, we’ve got a problem.”

“Louis!” Liam screeches through the shower curtain. “I am in the _shower._ ”

“Yes, I can see that. We’ve still got a problem.”

“You can’t just come in here like that. What if I was wanking?”

Louis rolls his eyes. “Good thing you’re not, then. Anyway, we need to talk about this Craigslist post you made.”

“What about it?” Liam turns off the water, and his hand shoots out to grab a towel from the hook on the wall.

“You do know what M4M is, right?”

“Yeah, it’s for guys looking for other guys. It’s a men’s jacket, so I figured—”

Louis wants to knock his head against the bathroom cabinet. Repeatedly. How is Liam real, honestly.

“Liam, honestly, sometimes I wonder how long and I have been best friends for so long. M4M is for _sex!_ You posted in a sex forum about your missing jacket.”

“It is _not_ for sex!”

“It _is._ Trust me.”

Liam tugs the curtain back, metal rings scraping against the shower rod, and he steps out with a pout on his face. Louis barely notices that he’s dressed in only a towel. Liam is quite fit, like, objectively, but never in his life has Louis thought about him sexually.

Well, maybe once when he was very lonely and wanted a good snog. But they were both drunk and nothing happened. It doesn’t count.

“Well, if it helps me find my jacket then I don’t really see why it matters. Besides, someone already texted me about it. This Styles guy’s coming over in a bit to get it.”

“ _Liam!_ ”

“What?”

“You invited the avocado man to come get his jacket _at our flat_ after posting on a sex forum. Do you see where this is going?”

“I really don’t.”

“Someone is going to have to have sex with the avocado man!” Louis screeches, and Liam covers his ears.

“No one is going to have sex with him. He’s going to come over, get his jacket and his avocado, and then he’ll go home. Would you get out, I need to brush my teeth.” Liam pushes him out into the hall and slams the bathroom door shut.

Louis is pacing the living room when Liam finally emerges ten minutes later, fully dressed.

“M4M is a sex forum,” he insists, dragging Louis by the wrist to look at the open pages on the laptop. “Do you see these posts? They’re all men looking for sex with other men. How did you not see this when you made the post?”

“I didn’t look at any of them! I was too worried about getting my jacket back!”

Liam’s expression grows increasingly concerned as Louis scrolls through the posts, most of which are quite, well… explicit. How did Liam miss that?

“Fuck,” Liam says.

“Yeah, fuck is right. As in, a stranger is coming to our house and he’s expecting you to fuck him! A stranger!” His voice is growing increasingly high pitched. “Who’s looking for sex on the internet at this time of day?”

“Hell if I know,” Liam says, and he’s so innocent and disturbed that Louis _almost_ feels bad for him.

“What time is this guy getting here?”

Liam checks his watch. “An hour?” He has the decency to look a bit sheepish, at least.

“You’re a real fucking idiot, did you know that? I don’t know whether to hightail it out of here or stay and make sure you don’t get murdered by this sex-crazed avocado man.”

“Always so kind,” Liam says.

“You got us into this mess! And now you have to sleep with him.”

“Have you forgotten I have a boyfriend?”

“Excuse me, Liam, this is your fault. You got us into this mess, you need to take one for the team and get us out of it.”

“Absolutely not,” Liam says. “Besides, you’re the one that picked up the wrong jacket. This is on you.”

Louis rolls his eyes. He can hear the clock ticking in the hallway and it’s a sharp reminder that in less than an hour, a strange man is coming to their flat expecting sex in the middle of the afternoon. “Do me a favor, Liam.”

“I am not having sex with this man. Zayn would not appreciate that.”

“Zayn will get over it! Or you can ask him if he wants to join. Maybe this guy is into threesomes.”

It’s worth it if only for the way Liam looks like he’s about to choke. “N-no,” Liam sputters, face turning red. “We’re not doing that.”

“Maybe this Styles man is the love of your life.” Louis stands up and starts organizing the papers on the coffee table, rearranging them into neater piles. Their flat is a tip, to be honest. They should clean it before this guy shows up.

“You think a sex-crazed avocado man is the love of my life?”

Louis raises an eyebrow. “Well, you’re about to find out, aren’t you? Might be the best sex of your life.”

“The best sex of my life is with Zayn.”

“That’s what you think now. But this avocado man is about to come in and rock your world, I can just feel it.” Liam rolls his eyes, his face flushing, and Louis absolutely does not want to know what he’s remembering. “Would you get off your arse and help me clean? This place is disgusting.”

“Clean for what?”

“The avocado man!” Louis exclaims. “Honestly, Liam, are you daft? You can’t have a guest over with the place looking like this.”

“You want me to clean my flat for someone you think is going to murder me?”

“Sorry that I wasn’t raised in a _barn,_ Liam.”

“You are insufferable.”

Louis plants his hands on his hips and glares, doing his best impression of his mum when she’s angry. “Have you quite finished?”

Liam doesn’t bother to give a response, just rolls his eyes. All the same, he dutifully stands up and goes to get the broom.

*

With five minutes until the strange avocado man is due to arrive, Louis and Liam stand in the middle of the living room, surveying their work. The kitchen is sparkling, the throw pillows are fluffed, and the rubbish bins are all empty.

“Good work, team,” Liam says. He’s got a speck of dirt above his left eyebrow, there’s a stain on his gray t-shirt and another on the leg of his joggers, and his hair is sweaty from how hard he’s been working. Louis is certain that he doesn’t look much better.

He’s about to go change his t-shirt (if he’s going to die, he wants to at least look good in the process) when the doorbell rings, and then all the stress he’d worked out from cleaning comes rushing back.

“I’m not having sex with him,” Liam hisses.

“You have to! I’m not doing it.”

“Would you open the door please?”

“Fine, but then I don’t have to sleep with him,” Louis says victoriously, rushing to the door.

“No, that’s not fair!”

“Too bad!”

He takes a deep breath, tries to steady himself, and opens the door.

“Hi,” he starts, and then he locks eyes with the man standing in the hallway, and he lets the door slam shut.

“Oh fuck,” he whispers.

“What are you doing, open the door!” Liam insists, hurrying to do just that.

“Liam, he’s like… _really_ hot,” Louis whispers through gritted teeth. He’s fallen back against the door, and Liam is trying to push him away so that he can get it open.

There’s a knock on the door, and they both freeze. “Hi, is Liam there? I think I’m in the right place, but, erm… maybe not.”

“Oh fuck,” Louis whispers again. He moves aside for Liam to open it, hiding his face in his hands.

“Hi, sorry about that,” Liam says happily. “My roommate’s a bit crazy.”

“Right,” the guy says. “Well, I’m Harry, I’m here for my jacket.”

Louis dares to look up at him again and yes, he is exactly as hot as he had seemed on first glance. Hair tied into a bun, pale blue shirt with the sleeves rolled past his elbows, black skinny jeans and dark boots. Louis’ eyes linger on his thighs for an extended moment, and okay, _images._

Liam pokes him in the chest and it’s then that Louis startles to attention. “Sorry, what?”

“I was just saying, this is Harry Styles. Harry, this is Louis, my idiot roommate.”

“Hi, nice to meet you,” Harry says, his voice a slow drawl as he extends a hand.

"You-you too," Louis stutters. "I'm Louis."

"So Liam said."

It's then that Louis notices there's another person standing out in the hall, a dark-haired man who seems to be laughing to himself. He's probably laughing at how much of a goddamn idiot Louis is.

"This is my friend, Niall. I brought him as backup in case either of you try to murder me."

“Always a good practice!” Liam chirps. “Louis was concerned that it would be you who would be the murderer in this situation, but I guess if we’re both on the defensive…”

“Louis is a smart man, then,” Harry says, smiling brightly at Louis, and against his better judgement, all his defenses fall away.

“I was just about to put the kettle on, would you like to come in and have a cup of tea?” Louis asks. He wants to spend longer with Harry, wants to sit down and stare at him for a couple of hundred hours.

“Yeah, that'd be brilliant.”

“Did you find the place alright?” Liam asks, ushering Harry and Niall into the flat, and isn't that just so fucking British, Louis thinks, making small talk with the person that's about to murder you.

"Yeah, we did," Harry says. "Niall's been in this area before anyway, so he knew it."

Now that Louis is about five percent less nervous and has a bit more brain space to think about it, this whole thing is very interesting. Most people would not bring someone with them if they thought sex was on the table. What's going on here?

“You can have a seat here on the couch,” Liam says, taking both of their coats and showing them to the living room. Louis notices that Harry's got Liam's coat - the mistaken coat - tucked under his arm, and that he and Niall sit on opposite ends of the couch. Probably not a boyfriend then.

Liam follows Louis into the kitchen, where Louis is turning on the kettle and setting out four mugs for tea.

“Did you ask them how they take it?” Louis asks, keeping his voice low and measured despite the effort it takes to do so.

“Niall wants a splash of milk and two sugars, and Harry will take his black,” Liam says.

“Excellent. So, they don’t seem like the type to murder anyone, though you can never be too sure.”

“You want to have sex with the avocado man,” Liam hisses, jumping straight to the point, and yes, that's exactly what Louis was trying to avoid by being the one who offered to make the tea. He'd thought that Liam would stay in there with them, entertain them while Louis did the dirty work.

“I don't!” Louis hisses, but his face is turning bright red.

“You do! I know you, I _know_ what you look like when you're trying to pull. You do that whole 'Oh, you're so funny’ doe-eyed thing that you have going on right now. That’s exactly what you look like!” Louis wants to smack him for sounding so gleeful.

"I do not want to have sex with your avocado man," Louis hisses.

“Er, sorry,” says Harry from the doorway, and Louis and Liam both whirl around to see him standing in the doorway, looking sheepish. “I just wanted to know where the loo is?”

"Go down the hall, first door on your right," Liam says happily. "You'll see it, door's open."

"Thanks," Harry says, and he shoots Louis a smile that he can tell is meant just for him.

"He wants to have sex with you too!"

"Liam, if you know what's good for you, you'll shut the fuck up and deal with this problem that you created by yourself. Alright?"

Louis can't see it, but he knows that behind him, Liam is rolling his eyes.

*

"So," Louis says, when they're all sitting in the living room, cups of tea in their hands and a plate of biscuits that Liam scrounged up from their cupboard sitting on a plate on the coffee table. "You were at Electric last night too?"

“Yeah, we both were,” Harry says, gesturing to Niall.

“Good night?”

“The best,” Niall says enthusiastically.

“You’re just saying that because you pulled,” Harry says.

“Well, that’s why it was such a good night.”

“Right, okay,” Harry says, rolling his eyes. Louis probably shouldn’t find that cute, but sadly, he does. Oh fuck. Not only does he think Harry’s hot, he thinks he’s cute too. This is a recipe for disaster.

Harry glances over at him and Louis feels himself jump, eyes darting away immediately.

“Speaking of, we should probably swap jackets before we forget,” Liam says. “I think I left yours in my room. Give me a second and I’ll go grab it.”

“I can get it,” Louis says, jumping up from the couch. He can’t handle being in this room anymore. He doesn’t know what Harry wants, what he expects, but for Louis, this afternoon is not going anything like he imagined it would.

Liam’s room is a mess. Everything belonging to him, previously scattered around the flat, now lives in here. It takes Louis a few minutes to fetch the jacket from beneath the pile of _stuff_ on top of the bed.

“Honestly, you’d think the boy could be a _bit_ more organized,” Louis mutters.

He’s just about to leave the room when he spies the Tupperware container of weed on Liam’s desk, the lid askew from where they left in a hurry for the club the night before. Hmm. That’s not a bad idea. He could take a hit and possibly chill the fuck out.

He’s just licking the edge of the joint when Liam comes into the room. “What the fuck are you doing?”

Louis looks at him, looks at the Tupperware container, and shrugs. The weed belongs to both of them, it’s not like Liam has a monopoly over it. “What does it look like I’m doing?”

“You can’t just smoke without the rest of us,” Liam protests. “There’s three of us sitting out there.”

Louis sighs. “Fine, ask them if they want to join. But if your reflexes are slow ‘cause you’re high and then they murder you, don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

“They’re not going to _murder_ us, for God’s sakes, Louis. You’re worse than my mum.”

“You need someone to watch out for you to stop you from doing shit like this!”

“Harry doesn’t want to murder you. He wants to bone you.”

“Oh my God would you ever _shut up!”_

Louis grabs the joint and a lighter and strolls into the living room. “Anyone want to smoke?”

*

So while Louis thought that the weed would force them all to chill out a bit, it turns out that it’s made Harry very, very giggly.

“You know, when I came over, I thought you were expecting sex,” Harry says, and then he and Niall collapse into a fit of laughter. “But you seem alright, all things considered.”

“All things considered?” Liam repeats, eyebrows furrowed. Sometimes weed makes Liam more serious. “What does that mean?”

“Well, mate, you did post in a sex forum,” Niall contributes, taking another hit. He passes the joint to Harry, who shakes his head.

“I didn’t know!” Liam protests.

Niall raises his eyebrows.

“He didn’t,” Louis says. “Clearly, he’s a bit of an idiot. But he didn’t know.”

“It’s not nice to call your best mate an idiot.”

“In the future, I’d rather you not post in sex forums and have potential creeps over to our flat.”

“Creeps?” Harry asks.

Oh fuck.

“Not that you’re a creep,” Louis rushes. “I just didn’t know - like… who’s looking on those sex forums in the middle of the day?”

“My friend,” Harry says immediately.

“Your friend,” Louis says, a bit skeptical.

“I know that sounds like a line, but my friend, Nick, he sent me the post. He spends his free time browsing Craigslist M4M.” He sounds so casual when he says it that Louis is immediately suspicious.

“So this friend of yours,” Liam says. “He hangs out on this… sex forum all the time? Is he some kind of pervert?”

Harry nods. “It’s his Sunday morning hobby, apparently.”

“Which is more than I ever wanted to know about him,” Niall adds.

“He, uh… he gave me a pep talk when he called me earlier. Told me that I was probably going to have to provide sexual favors to get my jacket back.” It must be the drugs. It has to be the drugs. Why is Harry admitting all this?

Louis chokes on his tea. Liam shoots him a funny look, but doesn’t do anything to help. Some fucking friend he is.

“That’s why he brought me along,” Niall pipes up.

“Louis kept saying that you would be expecting one of us to have sex with you,” Liam says. Louis feels like his heart is going to drop out of his body.

“Would you shut the fuck up?” he hisses.

“He made me fight him for it,” Liam continues.

“He made you fight him so that one of you could have sex with me?” Harry asks, his voice a slow drawl. He looks amused. His eyes are a bright green around his wide pupils, and Louis thinks he could lose himself in his face.

Louis is spacey from his nerves and the weed that he’s smoked to combat those nerves, so he isn’t thinking when he blurts out, “No, I fought him so that I _wouldn’t_ have to have sex with you.”

Niall snorts and Liam’s jaw drops and Louis knows he’s made a huge fucking mistake.

For his part, though, Harry just looks intrigued. “Was this before or after you saw me?”

“Before, obviously,” Louis says, and yup, that’s mistake number two.

“And what about now?” Harry asks. He has to know he’s toeing the line here. Louis is just high enough to not care.

“Now…” Louis looks at the ground, and then looks Harry right in the eye. “Now I wouldn’t be fighting Liam anymore.”

Harry swallows hard, drags his eyes over Louis’ face, and darts his tongue out to wet his lip.

Louis shifts in his seat, suddenly uncomfortable. He wants to get closer to Harry and he wants to run away. He wants to stride across the room and confidently straddle Harry’s waist and he wants to makes sure that he never sees him again. He wants to know what it would feel like to have Harry’s cock inside of him and he wants to depart from the earth.

It’s a shame he can’t do all of those things at once, really.

*

Niall is in the loo when Liam gets up to answer his phone, leaving Harry and Louis alone in the living room.

“So,” Louis says, three hits in and officially giggly. “I’m gonna go out on a limb here and say that Niall’s not your boyfriend.”

“No,” Harry says immediately. He look very solemn as he says it. “Not my boyfriend.”

 _Good,_ Louis thinks, and when Harry giggles he realizes that he’s said it out loud.

“Actually, you wanna know a secret?” Harry stands up and crosses the distance between them, dropping his arse onto the couch just inches from Louis’ lap. “Whoopsie,” he says.

“Who says whoopsie anymore? What are you, secretly a ninety year old woman, Harold?”

“You caught me,” Harry says, leaning backward and looking up at Louis’ face, eyes crossed as he does it.

“What’s the secret?”

“Oh right.” Harry sits up and rearranges himself so that he’s sitting with his long legs crossed underneath him like a pretzel, his whole body turned to face Louis.

“The secret is—” He leans in until he’s just inches from Louis’ face, and Louis can smell the weed and his gaze is fixed on Harry’s plump, pink lips and he really, really wants to kiss him right now. “—I don’t have a boyfriend.”

“Right,” Louis says softly, unable to tear his gaze away.

“Also I really wanna kiss you.”

“I want to kiss you too,” Louis admits, and though he’s already made his attraction to Harry clear, there’s still a certain exhilaration in saying those words, putting them into the universe.

“I want to do more than that, though,” Harry says, and Louis isn’t sure he’s breathing. “I also… kinda want to have sex with you.”

“Then why don’t you?”

Louis feels like a thousand seconds pass in the time that Harry process the question, thinks of an answer, and then opens his mouth to speak. And then of course he doesn’t even get to hear his fucking answer, because Niall walks into the room.

“Oi, what are the two of you doing?”

“Secrets,” Harry says happily, pushing back from Louis so that there’s more space between them. He does not look as devastated as Louis feels right now. “You wanna join?”

 _No,_ Louis thinks a bit desperately. _No, do not let him join._

“I absolutely do not,” Niall says, and Louis thinks his sigh of relief might be audible. “Actually, I need to get going. You want a ride home, Styles?” Niall’s eyes flick between Harry and Louis, as if he’s trying to make sense of what’s going on between them.

“Are you okay to drive?” Liam asks, strolling back into the room. That’s Liam, isn’t it, always the dad making sure his friends are okay. Even if it’s people he’s just met, apparently.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Niall assures him. “It’s been what, two hours? I’m good.”

Harry pokes Louis in the side and leans in, his voice low in Louis’ ear.

“Kinda think I should take you out on a date first.”

Louis grins, blinking up at Harry. Louis’ brain feels clouded, less from the weed and more because of the boy in front of him. “What’re you doin’ now?”

“Now?”

“Yeah, right now. You wanna go to dinner?”

Harry grins, and doesn’t break eye contact with Louis when he speaks. “Nialler, you go ahead. I’ve got other plans.”

*

Louis insists on taking a quick shower, and when he’s managed to wash the grime off of his face and the smell of weed from his hair, he feels a lot more presentable.

Harry must agree, if the way he cuts himself off in the middle of what he’s saying is any indication.

“Are you two playing nice?” he asks, directing the question to Liam, who has a tendency to go a bit overboard with the ‘protective older brother’ discussion.

“Liam was just telling me that he’s going to cut my balls off and stick them in a jar that he’ll display outside Buckingham Palace if I so much as make you cry.”

Louis smirks. “He did that to my last boyfriend, you know.”

“Be careful,” Liam adds.

“Payno, I appreciate the support but I think we’re fine. Don’t you have a boyfriend to pick up for your own date?” He hasn’t forgotten this morning’s disastrous cooking experience. God, that was only this morning.

It feels like so much has happened since then.

“The dinner is tomorrow night,” Liam corrects gently. “But yeah, he’s supposed to be coming over.”

“Noted,” Louis says, and then he turns his full attention back to Harry. “You ready to get going?”

Harry looks him up and down, taking in the red scoop neck t-shirt that Louis wore specifically because he knows it makes his collarbones look really good, the black jeans, his favorite faded Vans.

“Did I mention you look really good? Like, really good.”

Louis grins, watching the way Harry’s eyes grow dark. He’s going to have so much fun with Harry, already can’t wait to come back so that he can get him in his bed. “You did not,” he says, trailing a single fingertip down Harry’s jaw. “However, flattery will get you everywhere, Harold.”

“Well then. You look really, really good.”

“Thank you.”

“Wait, your jacket,” Liam says as they get ready to go.

“Oh, right.” In the hustle of the afternoon - Louis getting flustered, the weed, the near kisses - they’d totally forgot about how they had never swapped back jackets.

“Why did you have an avocado at a club anyway?” Liam asks, handing Harry the proper jacket. He shrugs it on, pats down the pockets, and retrieves the avocado in question.

“Just wanted to make sure you didn’t steal it,” he quips. “Anyway, I found it in a stairwell at the club.” He shrugs when he sees Louis’ skeptical expression. “I don’t know, I thought it could come in handy.”

Louis laughs, the sound filling the room. “You’re such an idiot.”

*

So, it turns out that Louis isn’t just sexually attracted to Harry. He’s intellectually attracted to him too.

Which is a real fucking joke, because he was expecting that tonight would be a nice date, a really good shag, and then they’d bid farewell. Maybe they’d exchange numbers with vague promises to see each other again, but neither of them would have any intention of actually following through.

But no. He’s about two drinks from getting down on one knee to propose marriage and they haven’t even kissed yet.

The restaurant is a cheesy Italian place where they dipped bread into olive oil and drank red wine and ate spaghetti and meatballs, and when they leave, Harry guides Louis out with a gentle hand resting on his lower back.

“D’you wanna walk back?” Louis asks suddenly. “It’s not that far, probably like two miles.”

“Sure,” Harry says immediately. “Let’s do it.”

Louis tangles their fingers together on the walk back, and when he looks over, he sees that Harry is smiling.

Louis is too.

*

“You’ll come up, right?” Louis asks quietly when they get to his door. He doesn’t _think_ that he needs to be nervous; they’ve already made it clear that this is where this night was heading all along. But it’s possible Harry’s changed his mind.

“Yeah, of course,” Harry says, squeezing Louis’ hand. “But first, I want to do this.”

He pushes Louis back against the brick of his building, and it’s scratchy through his thin t-shirt, but Louis barely feels it because he’s consumed by the feeling of Harry’s mouth on his, Harry’s nose bumping up against his own, Harry’s tongue sliding into his mouth.

It’s dirty right from the start, and there’s a certain kind of poetry in that, the fact that nothing about the past few hours with Harry have been how things are supposed to go.

In spite of that - or maybe because of it? - it feels like the best date Louis has ever had.

“Please,” Louis gasps, pulling away on a rush of breath. “Let’s go inside.”

Harry’s ensuing grin is mischievous, wicked, bright. “Lead the way.”

*

The path to Louis’ bedroom is made a bit more difficult by the fact that he refuses to remove his mouth from Harry’s.

Liam and Zayn are sitting at the kitchen table when they walk in. Liam gives a low whistle that has Louis laughing into Harry’s mouth, pulling away only so that he can stick his tongue out at Liam and flip him off.

“Oh god, they really are as bad as you said,” he hears Zayn mutter, and he would flip him off too, but they’re already moving closer to Louis’ bedroom.

They finally make into the bedroom, the two of them giggling and happy, and Louis shuts the door and orders Harry to strip.

Harry nods, his eyes growing dark as he complies and watches Louis do the same thing. Their clothes sit in two puddles, one by the door and one by the bed, and Louis thinks that they make a very pretty picture. He’d think to be nervous, except for the way that Harry’s looking at him right now, like he’s his best daydream brought to life.

Louis may possibly be projecting. Sue him.

“How d’you want to do this?” Harry asks, and Louis takes a step closer. Harry’s just standing there, cock half hard, completely unabashed about his nudity.

“You like being naked, do you?”

Harry shrugs, and the move is so cocky that Louis has to fight to inhale, letting out the breath shakily. “Don’t see anything wrong with nudity. ‘S fun, innit?”

Louis grins. “With the right person, absolutely.” He doesn’t say that he’s pretty sure Harry is that person.

“Want me to fuck you?” Harry asks, completely shameless, and _fuck,_ Louis is quite possibly not going to survive this experience. In the low light, Harry’s jaw looks sculpted from marble, so sharp and angular that it can’t be real.

Louis quite possibly wants to come all over his face, and wow, that train of thought didn’t take long to derail.

“Please,” Louis says, scrambling onto the bed and gesturing for Harry to follow him. “Or I’ll fuck you, whatever. Just want you.”

“Yes,” Harry says, which isn’t an answer but seems to convey exactly what he means. “Yes please.”

Louis would like to say that he savors the experience, but the truth is that everything feels blurry, clouded and fuzzy in his brain like he’s on a really good drug. The Harry drug, he thinks as Harry falls into him, their tongues brushing as Harry coaxes sounds out of him he’s not sure that he’s ever made before. Harry’s tongue, Harry’s lips, Harry’s fingers: all of them are instruments used to bring Louis the most exquisite pleasure he’s ever felt in his twenty four years of life. Or maybe it’s torture.

At this point, Louis isn’t sure there’s a difference.

Harry is incredibly thorough, working his way down Louis’ chest with his mouth, nipping and biting and soothing and pressing words into Louis’ skin, all of it causing Louis to writhe beneath him.

When he brings his mouth to Louis’ cock, Louis’ hands shoot out to scrabble at the sheets, holding on for dear life as Harry takes him all the way down and just doesn’t _stop._

“Jesus,” Louis whines when Harry has three fingers inside of him, his lips on Louis’ cock and his wrist flicking in a way that’s making Louis see stars. “If you don’t stop that this will be over before you even get inside me.”

He’s not above begging. In fact, it’s what he’s been doing for Harry’s cock for the last ten minutes. “Styles, I swear to God.”

“You’re so good for me, aren’t you?” Harry murmurs, removing his mouth from Louis’ cock and leaning up to kiss him.. “Making the most beautiful sounds for me, aren’t you, baby?”

Louis groans and squeezes his eyes tight, tries to think about his elderly primary school teacher, the dead raccoon he saw last week, anything to stop from coming before he’s ready. When he opens them again, Harry’s above him, gazing down at Louis with something that could only be described as wonder.

Somehow, that’s just as hot as the rest of it.

Harry kisses him as he slowly removes his fingers from Louis, and Louis wants to protest, feels himself clenching around the empty air, but then he remembers that Harry has a purpose. Even if it’s taking him seventeen million years to get to it, he does have a point.

“Let me,” Louis says, reaching out for the condom in Harry’s hand. He sits up against the pillows and reaches out for Harry’s cock, which gives a little twitch when he wraps his palm around it. It’s big. He rips open the foil packet with his teeth and tries to roll the condom on with shaky hands.

“Hey, hey,” Harry says softly, bringing one finger to Louis’ chin so that he’s forced to look at him. “Are you okay? We don’t have to do this, if you don’t want to.”

“No,” Louis protests immediately. “No, I want to. I really, really want to. I’m just… nervous all of a sudden, I don’t know. It’s dumb.”

“It’s not dumb,” Harry says, and the softness in his expression makes Louis’ eyes fill with tears. “Lou, are you sure you’re alright?”

“I’m good. I promise. I just... didn’t think it would feel like this.”

“Like what?”

“So good,” Louis says immediately. “So warm and so… trusting, I guess? Like we _just_ met. It’s not supposed to feel like this.”

“But it does,” Harry adds, voice filled with tenderness.

“Yeah.”

“I’ve never felt like this before,” Harry admits, and Louis leans up to kiss him. They kiss and kiss and kiss, and slowly Louis feels his sudden nerves melt away.

“Me neither,” he says a few minutes later. “I didn’t know… didn’t know it could feel like this.”

He kisses him again, and when he rocks up against Louis, his cock thick and hard against his thigh, Louis is determined to try again.

When Harry presses into him, slow and certain, it is the singular best thing he’s ever felt. Until Harry angles his hips down, and then  _that’s_ the best thing he’s ever felt. Until he does it again, and Louis throws his arm over his face. He’s given up quantifying this, is content to just spout a litany of alternating praises and curses for as long as Harry will let him.

But when he comes, yelling Harry’s name so loudly he’s certain the neighbors heard, that is without a doubt the best feeling in the world.

And then Harry kisses him, his hair sweaty and falling into his eyes as he murmurs how good Louis is, how hot that was, and Louis stops thinking altogether.

*

Liam finds him in the kitchen the next morning, dressed in only his pants as he prepares tea. Two cups of tea, he thinks happily, because he’s got a handsome boy asleep in his bed.

“Morning,” Liam mutters, yawning and not bothering to cover it as he stumbles into the kitchen and opens the fridge door. He peers his head in and then shuts it a few seconds later, only to open it again and shut it shortly after.

“Good morning,” Louis says happily. It _is_ a good morning. A good morning after a good night. A _great_ night.

“Nice love bite,” Liam says, stepping forward and poking the purple spot on Louis’ collarbone that appeared overnight.

“You jealous?” Louis teases, shutting off the kettle.

“Jealous of you and Harry? No, if you’ve forgotten I have a Zayn.”

“Bet he didn’t stay over though,” Louis teases, pouring the hot water into the mugs.

“No, because the two of you were too loud for us to get any sleep.”

Louis flushes. “Sorry not sorry.”

“It’s alright,” Liam says. “I guess you slept with the avocado man after all.”

Louis laughs, bright and warm and true, and he can’t help but think of the boy that’s keeping his bed warm right now. “I did. And you know what? I’m about to go do it again.”

The sound of Liam’s ensuing groan follows him all the way down the hall.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading!
> 
> [find me on tumblr here](http://www.afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com) || [reblog the fic post](http://afirethatcannotdie.tumblr.com/post/160031165686/aint-my-fault-by-afirethatcannotdie-liam-m4m-is)


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